


The S Dilemma/A Problematic Amount of Sex

by Megan



Category: Kamen Rider W (Double)
Genre: Caretaking, Deconstruction, Dialogue Heavy, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oral Sex, Sappy, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-13
Updated: 2016-06-13
Packaged: 2018-07-14 17:51:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7184087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megan/pseuds/Megan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shoutarou gets hit by a sex dopant. It wouldn't be his life if this weren't desperately unpleasant instead of sexy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The S Dilemma/A Problematic Amount of Sex

**Author's Note:**

> I came very close to titling this one _The S Dilemma/Sexual Cannibalism in Arthropods_. You're welcome.
> 
> Things I had too much fun with: Philip being a terrible troll, coming up with new and exciting ways to localize _ah mou_ , Philip's seemingly canon masochism (fond reminiscence of being manhandled in the Begins Night movie, man), Terui's incredible discomfort with everything, playing with clinical phrasing and sentence structure and random facts, and writing these two nerdlords making a sexy trope terminally unsexy.
> 
> Since this is sort of a deconstruction of sex-pollen-as-sexy, it does contain a brief allusion to the possibility of sexual assault. It's not specific and is just a mention of the possibility, but it is there.

"You mean to tell me," Akiko said in her dangerous voice, the one that she normally didn't use on Philip, "that there's a Dopant out there making people into sex maniacs and the one person at the scene it doesn't hit is my husband?"

That was not the part of the situation he had expected her to be scandalized about, though perhaps in hindsight it should have been.

"Well, no." Philip tapped a finger against his cheek. It didn't help him decide which part of her question was more ridiculous, but it did feel nice. Having a body again had so many unexpected little perks like that. "It did hit him. He was unaffected, as he usually is with Dopant attacks."

"I would be the one person in Fuuto not getting extra laid." The answer appeased Akiko well enough that she didn't take off her slipper and brandish it, but she didn't sound pleased, either.

"Wouldn't there be two people in Fuuto who are not, as you put it, getting extra laid? Terui Ryu is presumably a participant in your hypothetical scenario." Philip knew to duck when he said that; the slipper bounced off the wall.

"Easy for you to say! You're going to get blitzed as soon as you leave this garage!" Akiko stalked past him to retriever her slipper. As she did, he heard the sound of the office door opening and people moving around. Judging by the half-hysterical shriek of _don't ask me questions, Hidari_ that was audible through the closed door, things had gotten even more awkward than they had been when Philip had last left Shoutarou's body.

"Do you really think so?" What an exciting prospect: Shoutarou being spontaneous, pushing him up against the wall and taking what he wanted instead of meticulously planning everything up to and including the dramatic case report writeup that would only exist in his own head. It was almost enough to make Philip agree with Akiko's rather skewed set of priorities regarding the Dopant.

"Ugh! I know that look, and I am very jealous of that look." Akiko slumped back against the wall. "Just give me a few minutes to get Ryu out of here before he gets too embarrassed to deal with the Dopant."

"Engaging in a public display of affection would make him leave faster, if anything." Philip felt his point was quite reasonable, so he didn't back down when he saw Akiko's slipper arm twitch.  
"Shoutarou is in considerable distress, which is a higher priority to me than Terui Ryu's potential secondhand embarrassment at a situation that he has nothing to do with."

He didn't particularly want to make Terui uncomfortable, of course. It was just that the degree of discomfort at stake didn't even rate compared to Shoutarou's just then. The immediate jolt of arousal when the Dopant had hit them had been disconcerting enough for Philip, who didn't have to deal with its physical effects. Shoutarou had been an absolute mess, to the point that they'd had to stay transformed on the drive home so Philip could steer the bike and keep them in one piece.

Something about what he'd said or the way he'd said it must have gotten through to Akiko; she stood up from her slump with that particular sort of vigor that meant she'd just had an idea that was either fascinating or horrifying.

"Right," she said. "I'll lock up the office so no one will interrupt you— nobody would ever hire us again if they walked in and saw Shoutarou naked! Can you imagine?"

Philip thought for a moment about answering that, then decided that there was no possible reply that was worth it. There was a time and a place for defending the virtues of Shoutarou's naked body, and while this might have been the place it was definitely not the time. 

He settled for leaving the garage without waiting for her to go in first and corral Terui, just to make it clear that he disapproved.

"Shoutarou?" He called out.

"He refuses to stay in bed." Terui stood with his back pressed up against the kitchen counter as if it would provide him with some kind of defense against… whatever he thought would happen. Sometimes the way Terui's mind worked was completely beyond any keyword or form of logical reasoning.

"Goodbye, Terui Ryu," Philip said pointedly. "I would like you to leave so that I can have sex with Shoutarou."

The noise Terui made was somewhere between a wheeze and an ultrasonic dog whistle, and he moved towards the door so fast that his leather squeaked. Which Philip couldn't entirely take credit for, because by the time Terui made it to the door there were arms around Philip's waist and a chin resting on his shoulder.

"Hi, partner," Shoutarou murmured.

Terui mumbled something about going to fight the Dopant again and that they could join him when they had this problem sorted out before Akiko made it across the office and herded him outside.

"I tried to kiss him during the fight," Shoutarou admitted, still heavy and warm and draped over Philip's back.

"I'm aware, Shoutarou." He found himself smiling despite the potential gravity of the situation. Yes, there was a Dopant on the loose and the two of them were unable to assist Terui in dispatching it. And yes, it was possible that its physiological effects on Shoutarou would go beyond the immediate and obvious if Terui didn't act quickly.

If things didn't escalate for either the general public of Fuuto or Shoutarou himself, though, this had the potential to be a rather pleasant Dopant attack. What a fascinating novelty.

Further internal debate about the ethics of enjoying the side effects of a Gaia Memory went on hold when Shoutarou pushed aside his shirt collar and started kissing his shoulder.

"Have I ever mentioned that it's really attractive that most of your shirts are too big?" Shoutarou asked between kisses. "That's weird, isn't it."

"Having seen a small fraction of the human sexual behavior recorded in the Earth's memory, no, it does not rate as particularly strange." He tilted his head back so Shoutarou could reach more of him, but otherwise remained where he was. "How are you feeling? Are you experiencing any new side effects from the Dopant attack?"

"You mean besides my need to be touching you right now, which isn't new but is definitely not normally like this? Or are you trying to talk dirty to me?" Shoutarou stilled against him as if waiting for an answer, except for his hands. Those were currently in the process of unzipping Philip's pants.

"I'm merely trying to assess your condition before you stop thinking clearly enough to give me useful data." He took Shoutarou's hands in his own before they could dip below his waistband. "You have repeatedly asked me not to attempt dirty talk with you because I am, in your words, _so completely awful at it, Philip, how are you so bad at this_."

"Oh, right. Well, I'd probably find even statistics hot right now, so go ahead."

Philip let go of his wandering hands long enough to turn around and get his first good look at Shoutarou since this had started. He was a mess, his face flushed and his hair mussed and his clothes half off like he'd started undressing but had gotten distracted by something else partway through. His waistcoat, tie, and belt were missing, his shoes were gone, and both his shirt buttons and his fly were undone.

He looked so undone that for a moment it was hard for Philip to breathe, his heart rate increasing and his throat tightening at the sight even without the excuse of a mind-altering Dopant attack.

Since Shoutarou didn't seem to be in any imminent physical danger, Philip gave in to the urge to take him by the front of his unbuttoned shirt and kiss him. Moving towards the bed seemed like the optimal course of action, and he managed to steer Shoutarou backwards without pulling away from his increasingly desperate mouth.

Shoutarou didn't normally bite, so the application of his teeth was a new and concerning sign of his current state of sexual distress. At least they both made it to the bed without running into any furniture or ending up in entirely the wrong direction, which was a minor miracle in and of itself.

"Good idea," Shoutarou murmured between deep breaths once he pulled away enough to notice where they'd ended up. "But you're still wearing too much."

"So are you." His own shirt was not nearly so easy to discard while kissing as Shoutarou's, so Philip pulled it over his head and tossed it aside before their physical position rendered that inconvenient. "You are perfectly capable of correcting either or both of these situations."

"Right, that's how you're so bad at dirty talk." Shoutarou did slip out of what remained of his shirt and pulled his undershirt off. He neatly folded them over a chair, which made Philip wonder if perhaps they had been overestimating the severity of this Dopant's attack the entire time. Surely someone with an insatiable, irresistible desire for sexual contact would not take the time to treat his clothes so well, not even someone as conscious of them as Shoutarou.

"Are you no longer suffering from the effects of the Dopant? Are you free of your indescribable urge to engage in sexual activity with me?" Philip sat down on the bed, waiting expectantly for the embarrassed squawk that was sure to answer him.

" _Damnit_." He didn't disappoint, scrubbing his hands over his face as he sat down on the bed, too. "Partner, plea— _ah!_ "

Pinning Shoutarou to the bed turned out to be an even more rewarding strategy than Philip had expected. His skin was warm under Philip's hands, but not alarmingly so, and he followed where Philip lead him without any hesitation or protest. Sometimes Shoutarou was simply in a mood wherein he preferred that, no Dopant intervention necessary. It probably wasn't related to any adverse effect.

"What would you like me to do?" He put a hand on Shoutarou's chest without waiting for an answer and gently urged him downward until he lay down on the bed.

He exhaled with a shudder, his eyes fluttering closed and some of the tension smoothing out of his face.

"Anything. Everything. Wait, no, do not do anything or everything. Do something normal." The words _anything_ and _everything_ had scarcely left Shoutarou's mouth when his eyes opened wide again and his voice veered into panic. "Please don't look up any new keywords right now."

"There is no such thing as normal sex, Shoutarou. I believe the word you are looking for is vanilla, which lacks the value judgement inherent in calling particular sexual acts normal." He took pity on Shoutarou and leaned down to slide off his already unzipped pants. "But I understand your intended meaning."

Shoutarou was already hard under his hand, but he'd expected that. The dizzying rush of chemical arousal in Shoutarou's blood had been obvious and distracting when Philip was in his body, even without it bleeding over into his own. That left little need for foreplay, no matter how fascinating that could be and how much they both normally liked drawing things out.

Philip didn't give him the chance to argue any more on what constituted 'normal' sex in his world; once he had Shoutarou out of his pants and underwear, he leaned down even further and took him into his mouth. Shoutarou fisted his hands in the sheets instead of in Philip's hair, which was a bit disappointing. He put that thought aside, since this was about Shoutarou and not about Philip indulging his own desire for roughness.

It didn't take long at all for Shoutarou to come, sharp and salty on Philip's tongue. He'd meant to tell Shoutarou at some point about the diet variations that affected the taste of semen-- it would be fascinating to explore that firsthand, especially since the bookshelves tended to describe smell and taste in terms of chemical formulas rather than descriptions. But he hadn't gotten around to it, and perhaps that was just as well. It was entirely possible that a change to Shoutarou's familiar chemical makeup could be covering up a symptom of whatever this Dopant had done.

Once he'd swallowed he settled back down on his side next to Shoutarou, who was panting for breath like he'd just done something far more strenuous than lie back and receive oral sex. He was still hard, which was odd and more than a little alarming. Even taking into account his relatively young age and probable ability to have more than one orgasm during a single encounter, Shoutarou was old enough to have a substantial refractory period.

"Did that help at all?" Philip asked, and Shoutarou's eyes fluttered open. He rolled onto his side so he could look at Philip.

"Yeah." Shoutarou reached out and brushed his hair out of his face. When had he lost the clip holding his hair back? Perhaps Shoutarou had removed it while they had been kissing. "I mean, it didn't fix me, but it definitely helped."

He took his other hand and wrapped it around Philip's own erection-- interesting, when had that happened? Not that the physiological reaction was unexpected. It was merely strange that he'd been too preoccupied with Shoutarou's distress to notice when he'd gone from that first stirring of interest to as desperately erect as Shoutarou was.

"Ah, Shoutarou, shouldn't we-- _mmmph_ \--" Shoutarou turned Philip's own strategy against him and cut him off with his lips, kissing him intently enough that in combination with his hand it was all too soon before Philip was coming undone, too.

Perhaps it was good that he hadn't pulled on Philip's hair before, if that level of arousal had been lurking in him unnoticed the entire time. A residual effect of the Dopant, perhaps? The physical effect wouldn't have hit him since he hadn't been physically present, but perhaps there was a mental component. A significant portion of the human libido resided in the brain, after all.

"Shoutarou, we should have waited. I lack your supernaturally enhanced stamina." He lay back against the pillow, trying and mostly failing to catch his breath. He wasn't used to reaching orgasm that quickly, not with so many variables to explore and so many physiological reactions to gauge before he could devote his attention to the pursuit of the orgasm itself. It was an… odd experience, to go through the physical motions without taking the time to create a mental catalog.

"You're eighteen. You'll be ready to go again in twenty minutes at the outside. Oh my god, I feel like a dirty old man saying that." Shoutarou threw an arm over his eyes with even more melodrama than usual. "Philip, you're dating a miserable, dirty old man who seduces high schoolers."

"The average life expectancy for a person born in your year of birth in Japan is eighty point five-seven years, Shoutarou. You have used less than one-third of your probable lifespan. Mathematically, you are a miserable, dirty young man. And I never attended high school, so that designation is also inaccurate." Philip paused as a new and fascinating prospect occurred to him. "I am curious about the implication of multiple high schoolers. Is this what you do at the karaoke bar with Queen and Elizabeth?"

"No!" Shoutarou let out a choked wheeze that Philip had never heard him make before. "My dick would not survive those two."

"How so?" It was a shame Shoutarou would never give him the keywords for something like that, and even moreso that something so vague would never turn up the results he wanted. "Did you know that female spiders sometimes cannibalize males during copulation? I had not heard of this behavior in humans before, but perhaps—"

"Please do not finish that sentence. For the love of everything, please do not finish that sentence." Shoutarou finally took his arm off his face, probably because attempting to sway Philip with a pathetic expression would work better if Philip could see said pathetic expression. "You know what they're going to do when I die from blue balls? They're going to arrest you for murder because you talked about bug facts instead of saving me from a terrible fate."

"Blue balls is largely a myth designed to elicit sex from unknowing partners, Shoutarou. As I am in possession of the relevant anatomy myself, I am well aware that true cases are much rarer than popular culture would lead one to believe." Philip finally relented when he saw the genuine panic that flitted over Shoutarou's face. "You do realize that we don't have to wait out my refractory period, yes?"

He kept a running record of his own, a little bookshelf in his own head. It was for the things that didn't make it into the Earth's memory, the small, private things that didn't mean anything in the larger sense but seemed like the whole world to him right now, in this body. 

Maybe someday he would commit them to the Earth and share them with whatever future person stumbled across the memory of everything, but for now they were just for him.

The look on Shoutarou's face just then was one of those memories he wasn't ready to share yet, surprise and relief and a deep affection that made something in Philip's chest feel tight.

"Wait." Shoutarou put a hand on his shoulder just as he leaned down. "You already— isn't that going to make your mouth sore, doing it again?"

"Who knows? I've never performed oral sex on someone repeatedly in such a short period, so I don't have a data point to compare." The next thought that occurred to him was perhaps a little unkind, but it had to be said. "If you are concerned that your size may cause me difficulty, don't worry. Your erect penis size corresponds closely to the global average of approximately fourteen centimeters in length and twelve centimeters in circumference."

"Philip!" Shoutarou's voice came out somewhere between incredibly needy and incredibly offended, and Philip couldn't help it: he started laughing.

"That isn't an insult, you know. There is presumably a reason why humans select for such a size, despite popular culture's assumptions. Perhaps I should have called it optimal, not average."

Shoutarou hit him with a pillow.

"Stop that, Shoutarou. I can't put your optimally-sized penis in my mouth again while you're having a tantrum. If I can't do that, we'll never solve the mystery of whether or not this is a problematic amount of sex." Philip caught the pillow that time and set it aside.

"Of course it's a problematic amount of sex, I would really like to be in control of my sex li— _ah!_ " At least going down on Shoutarou was still an effective way to make him stop worrying, even with a Dopant involved. His fingers wound into Philip's hair with a gentle, reassuring pressure, while his other hand held onto Philip's shoulder. "Thank you, _thank you_."

That was an odd thing to say, even for him. Odd enough that Philip looked up at him in concern, though he didn't take his mouth off Shoutarou.

"It hurts," Shoutarou explained in a shaky voice. "When you're not touching me, I mean. I didn't want to pressure you into anything, so I didn't say— god, Philip, you feel so good. Thank you."

Philip had planned to tease, to kiss his way up the dip of Shoutarou's linea alba and feel the muscles jump under his touch as he went. Not now, though, not if Shoutarou needed something else. 

It hurt that he hadn't wanted to ask for it, even if it had been even out of some misguided impulse to protect Philip.

He went slowly. Not because Shoutarou's ridiculous worries about dying of blue balls were founded in reality, but to draw it out as long as possible. If the physical act of sex brought Shoutarou some temporary form of relief, then the logical thing would be to stretch each individual instance out as long as possible until Terui managed to finish off the Dopant. 

Savoring Shoutarou like this, as heavy and sharp on his tongue as he'd been a few moments earlier, was something he hadn't put so much thought into since the first time. Was it odd to find the sensation almost comforting in its familiarity? Shoutarou would almost certainly say that it was, so Philip would ask the Earth later instead of him.

Shoutarou sighed when he came, so relieved that it was palpable even without a driver. The tension slipped away from him almost immediately, leaving him boneless against the mattress.

He didn't say anything for a few moments. He just lay back and breathed, his eyes open and fixed on Philip.

"Is there something in particular that you're staring at?" Philip was used to Shoutarou staring-- sex seemed to trigger even more of his sentimentality than most things-- but there was a different quality to it this time. His pupils were dilated wide, his cheeks flushed, and something about those baseline physical signs of arousal made his stare into something else entirely.

"Your mouth," Shoutarou said softly, his voice gone vague and reverent as if something about Philip's possession of basic human facial structure was awe-inspiring. The hand still clasped in Philip's hair slipped down to that perfectly ordinary mouth, feather-light fingertips coming to rest on his lower lip.

Philip hadn't realized how warm and swollen his lips felt until the relative cool of Shoutarou's fingers startled it into him.

"You look like— like I _wrecked_ you." Shoutarou's words were accompanied by a bereft sigh when Philip took him by the wrist and moved his hand.

"I still do not understand that concept, or its appeal." He didn't feel wrecked or ruined or any other negative appellation, not in the slightest. The echo of Shoutarou in his jaw and on his tongue was an affirmation of something that had been quite pleasing, even given the circumstances. "The assumption that engaging in consensual sex in some way demeans or damages someone is—"

Shoutarou interrupted his explanation with a kiss. Less succinctly, he pulled Philip up by the shoulder he was still clinging to and pressed their mouths together hard enough to completely swallow the surprised sound that Philip was sure he had made.

There was the decisiveness that Philip had expected when he'd first closed the garage door behind him, a desperate hand on his shoulder and teeth nipping at his oversensitive lip. Oh, that was wonderful, sharp and bright and with an oddly satisfying sting like the one he got when Shoutarou tugged on his hair with more force than intended. This was definitely another keyword to file away for later perusal, the sort of lookup that would send Shoutarou flailing in horrified embarrassment.

"I would have killed to have this happen to me five years ago." Shoutarou leaned his forehead against Philip's when he pulled away, panting hard enough for his breath to stir their hair. "I was an idiot five years ago."

He pulled his wrist away from Philip's hand, but only long enough to lace their fingers together.

"I don't think you would have liked it then, either. You don't seem to enjoy the degree of pain you're in now. Though if you do, it is a perfectly natural human impulse."

Shoutarou froze.

"What the hell have you been looking up? Forget what, who told you to do a lookup on S&M?" 

Philip squeezed his hand and smiled.

"Ah, I was curious what keyword to use for the concept. Thank you, Shoutarou." This time, Philip was the one to cut off a protesting noise with his lips. Further exploration and discussion of that concept could wait until later, when Shoutarou wasn't in the midst of an increasingly uncomfortable situation.

He fumbled around by touch until he found the bottle of lubricant-- at least it was on the bed this time and not put away properly or tossed aside onto the floor, within easy reach without having to leave Shoutarou alone. Without knowing how long they had before Terui managed to beat the Dopant without their help, chafing might become a concern.

The sound Shoutarou made when Philip wrapped a slick, tentative hand around him was thoroughly miserable, and Philip had to take a deep breath and make a concerted effort not to pull away.

"Please, it's okay." Shoutarou's eyes were closed and his adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. He didn't sound okay by any definition of the word that Philip was familiar with. "Like I said, it hurts more when you don't touch me."

Philip settled back against the wall and Shoutarou followed suit, leaning his head down on Philip's shoulder. His cheek felt alarmingly clammy, cool and sweaty as if he were ill or in shock. Was there some physiological limitation with the human male body that made four orgasms in such close succession problematic? He could look it up, but leaving Shoutarou alone in this kind of distress for even a few minutes felt unacceptable.

He took Shoutarou's wrist with his free hand, fingers on the pulse point there. Keeping an eye on his heart rate seemed wise.

"I will never be angry about being too old to get it up more than once at a time again." Shoutarou shivered against him as he exhaled. "I appreciate my usual decrepit dick so much right now."

"I appreciate your statistically young and optimally-sized penis when it's not causing you distress, too." That actually drew a weak chuckle form Shoutarou, one that choked off into a groan on the next stroke of Philip's hand.

"God, you feel good." He shuddered harder, his pulse jumping under Philip's fingers. "You smell good, too. Which is weird, because you actually smell like cheap markers and burnt coffee."

"That's your fault, you know. You bought me those markers and burned the coffee." He leaned his head down against Shoutarou's and hoped that his own pulse wasn't fast enough to give away how nervous he felt, how undiscovered this territory was. Letting Shoutarou know that he didn't know what to do was not an option.

"Believe me, I'm counting up all my sins right now so I can figure out how long I'm going to be punished." Shoutarou's free hand suddenly settled on Philip's wrist, holding him back before the next downstroke. "Slow down a little, it's going to be even worse after I come again and it doesn't help that everything about you is impossibly hot right now."

"Oh? How should I keep my inconvenient attractiveness in check?" Philip did slow down as directed, and Shoutarou relaxed a little against him. "I could tell you more about sexual cannibalism in arthropods."

"No more bug facts." Really, Shoutarou was lucky that Philip cared about him so much; otherwise, it would have been too easy to point out that he hadn't told him a single fact about a bug that day. All of them had been about arachnids, and at no point had Shoutarou asked him to stop talking about arachnid facts. "Please."

Two things happened before Philip could answer: first Shoutarou stiffened against him, so tense he felt ready to snap, and then the discarded phone rang from where it sat on the floor.

"Shoutarou, I have to get that. It's Terui Ryu." He managed to extricate himself from Shoutarou's suddenly octopus-like grip and groan of _Philip, no, don't go_ long enough to pick up the phone with the hand that wasn't covered in lube. "Hello, please tell me that you've eliminated the Dopant."

"I have. Hidari should be back to normal soon." Terui sounded disgusted with the entire situation on a deep and visceral level. "Will you two be all right, or should I send the Chief over? I'm going to be tied up at the precinct until I'm sure there's no way this piece of garbage gets away with this."

"Her presence shouldn't be necessary. I'll call you back if Shoutarou requires medical attention. Otherwise, it might be best if the office remains closed for the rest of the day." Another possible— more likely, even— reason for Terui's disgust occurred to him as he spoke. Shoutarou had been very, very lucky to have Philip here and understanding and willing. "Please do what you can."

Once he put the phone down, Philip turned his attention back to Shoutarou. He still sat up against the wall, eyes closed and breath coming in heavy gasps. For lack of any part of Philip within easy reach he'd fisted his hands in the sheets again, this time so hard that his knuckles were white. When Philip's weight settled back on the bed his eyes opened, though it took him an entirely too distressing second to focus them.

"I'm so tired all of a sudden," he said, his words slurred. Well, he had just gone through an experience that his body wasn't designed to have so often in quick succession; perhaps only the Dopant had been keeping him as awake as he'd been. "But I'm kind of afraid that if I go to sleep, this will still be here when I wake up."

He made a vague hand gesture in the direction of his penis, his nose scrunched up a little in distaste.

"You know what would solve that, right?" Philip settled down next to him again, and the question seemed to wake him up a little more.

"If you say sexual cannibalism, I'm never touching you again." Ah, he should have known that Shoutarou would know him too well to fall for that. "I mean, I may not have sex with anyone ever again anyway. I have never been this upset about my dick before in my life."

"That hardly incentivizes me not to say it, then." Philip laid his clean hand on Shoutarou's thigh. "We could also finish this before you go to sleep. Or I could continue after you fall asleep, if you're comfortable with that."

"Why wouldn't I be?" Shoutarou took hold of Philip's hand with one of his, the other still clutching the sheets. His grip was shaky but strong. "I trust you driving half my body, don't I?"

"Then lie down." Philip drew his hand up to rest on Shoutarou's lower belly and pressed down gently, insistently. "I've got you."

Shoutarou allowed himself to be led down until he was horizontal, and Philip pulled the curtain the rest of the way back before he settled down next to him. Shoutarou turned on his side and curled in close, eyes going half-lidded but not completely closed when Philip reached out to touch him again.

It was over just as quickly this time, only a few strokes of Philip's hand around him before Shoutarou came with a miserable, shaky moan. He was still awake, but only just; the release of tension after his prior orgasms was nothing compared to how limp he went almost immediately.

"I should-- what about you?" Even barely coherent, Shoutarou was more worried about taking care of him than about himself.

"I'm fine. Go to sleep, partner." He would hopefully have enough time to clean Shoutarou up and get some clothing on before everyone else returned to the agency, because he doubted that Akiko would stay away for too long. "On second thought, stay awake for a moment. You are not adequately hydrated for someone who's engaged in so much sex."

Shoutarou groaned, but he managed a nod. His eyes were even open again when Philip returned with a glass of water and a wet washcloth, and his pulse had settled down to a far less worrying beat when Philip put two fingers to his wrist to check.

Satisfied that Shoutarou was probably not going to die from either dehydration or a truly problematic amount of sex and that he was clean enough he wouldn't have a fit when he woke up, Philip finally pulled the blanket back and settled it over him.

"Stay." Shoutarou took hold of his wrist again. He had a surprisingly strong grip for someone who was practically asleep.

"I have no need of a nap, Shoutarou, I am not the one who's undergone too much strenuous physical activity today." Philip followed him under the blanket anyway. Now that the immediate danger seemed to be over, there was little reason not to indulge Shoutarou in his need for physical comfort. "But I suppose I can use the opportunity to look up some things I'm curious about. What was that keyword you gave me? S&M?"

"Philip, _no_ " was the last thing Shoutarou mumbled before burying his face in Philip's shoulder and curling an arm around his waist.

"Fine, I won't look it up. For now." The affirmative hum he got in response meant that Shoutarou was too close to sleep to have really processed that.

He closed his own eyes. Not to sleep or to do a lookup-- he really wasn't tired and the glow might wake Shoutarou-- but to add this moment to the personal record he was keeping. It felt important, like something he should hold onto for safekeeping until he was ready to share it with the Earth.


End file.
